Fire Emblem Parabale
by gokart48
Summary: This is a story about Robin. This is not a story about Robin. This is a serious story. This is not a serious story. This is a confusing story. This is not a confusing story. This story does not have any contradictions. This is a summary which contains the word 'This' a lot. This story contains elements of the Stanley Parable. This is a story...about a panda. This story is complete
1. Robin Parable

_"This is satire and a parody. There are a lot of elements and ideas taken from a game called The Stanley Parable, and it involves...well you will see for yourself. Disclaimer: None of this is meant to be taken seriously."_ Said the author before I bound his hands, gagged his mouth, and stuffed him in the broom closet.

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Hello and welcome to the Stanley Para-...Hold on that's not right *Rustles papers* ...Hmm...this is...Ah ha! Here we are. *Sigh* But the introduction is ruined now. Perhaps it is best if we just start over and try it again.

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Hello! and welcome to the Fire Emblem Parable _**Demonstration. **_In this section you will learn all the exciting features and unique objectives of this story. It will be my job to help guide you through this demo so you can fully enjoy the experience.

Now, you are probably wondering who I am because I have not introduced myself. And since this is in regular text it is not a part of an author's note. Therefore by analytical deduction we can hypothesize that I must be a part of the Demo. We can also assume that I am an important figure of this story because I am a genius. Another victory for logic!

While my name and description is not prevalent to this story, it is imperative for you to realize that I will be narrating this story with a deep announcer voice and I am vastly more intelligent than you.

At this time, I should warn you that there are a few prerequisites that you must pass before we can explore the diverse and thrilling features that you can expect in this story. First, you need to have a basic knowledge of the English language. Second, you must have an electrical device with a screen that can accurately display the exciting black and white background with colorful advertisements. Finally, you need to have a functional brain with the mental capacity exceeding a three-year old who eats dirt.

...Uh oh, it seems that you only meet two of these requirements. I am afraid your experience will be hindered because of this, but I suppose we can still press onwards.

I am also inclined to warn you that this is a very serious story. This story is so serious, that it compels me to speak in a very serious voice. *Ahem* You might not grasp the seriousness of this story, but I assure you that this is the most serious story you will ever read; seriously. I will now take a brief pause to emphasize how serious this story is.

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Okay that's enough silence... Notice how I demonstrated a passage of time by repeatedly using three consecutive period marks. This is one of the many helpful features that offers an easier way to enjoy the content and realism.

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Another helpful tool to display an interval of time is the horizontal line insert.

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This helpful instrument indicates a longer passage of time or a change in subject.

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However, it is best to use this tool infrequently.

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And not to abuse it or it will distract the reader.

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I believe that Robin would concurrently agree with me on this matter and the seriousness of it.

"Huh? Did I just hear something?" Robin asked in confusion thinking he heard a voice, but it must have been the wind.

Ah, thank you Robin for exhibiting the dialogue feature. When a Fire Emblem character speaks, it will be notated with the exciting quotation mark attribute. In the event that you see these quotation marks, it means that a character is saying something.

"_I could have sworn I just heard a voice._" Robin scratched his head

Notice the Italics used within the quotation marks. This shows the characters thoughts. Since I am omnipotent, I can easily understand Robin's ideas and frivolous emotions. Also, it is important to know that I speak without the quotation mark property.

"Wait you're omipotent?!"

Hold it just a moment! ... Mhm, just as I suspected. The word omnipotent was misspelled. This is clearly the fault of the author. I apologize in advance for his inability to grammatically format sentences. The author is so stupid that he fails to recognize the basic principles of spelling and punctuation. It is only by some miracle and randomly pushing buttons on the keyboard that he correctly used the proper abbreviated version of 'you are.'

However, I ask that you do not mention these careless mistakes to him. He is dim-witted and it would only hurt his fragile self-esteem to hear about his idiotic errors. The author is so pathetic that he would cry in the corner of his room weeping at his failures. In the event that you feel bad about yourself. You can take pride in knowing that you are not an unstable simple-minded loser like the author. Please feel free to laugh at him at any point during this demonstration.

*Bam*

Ah. That random and completely unscripted firework presents the use of asterisks. While you have already seen this symbol earlier in the demo, it is still important for me to explain them. This entertaining sign represents a sound in the Ylissean world. Since this is a literary narration, it is impossible to accurately project sound without this helpful tool. Thank you asterisks for your continued support in making this story better.

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Well there you have it. You can expect all of these features and much more in this story. All you have to do is click on that arrow to your right to proceed to the next chapter and experience this exhilarating tale. If you are not satisfied then feel free to read the other stories on this site.

Wait a second...No that can't be right... I _erased_ that option. I have _removed_ the decision of free choice. That is ruined my last game. That pesky free will is what destroyed my Beautiful masterpiece! That clueless Stanley! How I hate-

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*Ahem* What I meant to say, is because of my boundless generosity, I will put the story in this chapter. After all, what good is a demo without a story to use it on? So without further delay, I present to you **The Fire Emblem Parable.**

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This is the story about a man named Robin. Robin serves as the head tactician for the entire army of Ylisse. Robin's job was simple, he signed transfer orders on big pieces of paper and saved the world from certain annihilation. This is what Robin did every day, of every month, of every year. And although others might have considered it soul wrenching. Robin loved his job and the people he was around. It was almost like he had been born for this line of work.

And Robin, was happy.

...

And then one day something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Robin. Something he would never quite forget. He had been at his desk for nearly an hour when he realized that not one stack of papers had reached his office and he did not encounter a single person. In fact, he didn't recall seeing anyone outside today. Not even Chrom who usually came in to say hi. Never in all three of his years as a tactician had this happened. Something was very clearly wrong. Shocked, frozen solid, Robin felt himself unable to move for the longest time.

But as he regained his senses, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office. He ventured outside to the courtyard to find not a single person strolling the grounds. Not even the guards were at their posts and Robin felt uneasy.

"Where is everyone?" Robin said to himself. Robin had a bad habit of asking questions out loud when he was alone. If anyone were to catch him doing this then they would think he was crazy.

Perhaps this is why everyone was gone. They thought Robin was crazy so they abandon him and all of their possessions just to get away from him. Robin laughed at the thought and continued his search for his friends.

"Heh, but seriously, where is everyone?" Robin once again spoke to himself seeking an answer. But no matter how hard Robin looked, he could not find a trace of his friends or colleagues.

He would roam the courtyard for over five minutes before he came to a set of two open doors. It was at this moment that Robin had a decision to make.

"Hmm, the barracks is to the left, and kitchen is to the right."

He was stumped at which way he should go, but a voice in the back of his mind assured him that the left path was the obvious choice. There was no choice he would make in his life that would be more certain than this. After pondering it for a full three seconds, he entered the door on his left. Upon entering the room, he found himself in a long hallway, and the door mysteriously shut behind him.

"Wait a second...this isn't the way to the barracks. I must be on the other side of the castle." Robin thought out loud. He turned around and proceeded to open the door behind him to find it was locked. No matter how hard he tried, the door would not budge.

"Huh whats going on? ...Oh, ha ha very funny guys." Robin said thinking this was a practical joke. But as he waited for everyone to reveal themselves and for the joke to end, there was a bitter silence. This quietness made Robin uneasy and he started to worry.

He found himself thinking about the situation and why it was happening. It was all very strange, and unexpected. In fact, it was so strange that he put a serious amount of effort thinking about the situation. In a direct result of this, it caused Robin to think about other strange things in his life.

...

For instance, why did some people call him by a different name? Some called him Nykolai, others Dante, and strangely enough some even referred to him as Vincent. This was just among a long list of nicknames Robin was given over the course of his career.

And while he was on the subject, he thought about how other people thought about him. Some referred to him as a powerful sorcerer, while others told him that his skill was with the blade. But no one could ever give him a definitive answer. He did not actually have a class of fighters he belonged to. So in order to make him feel better, Chrom gave him the title of Grandmaster.

And now the disturbing thoughts came to Robin's head. The thoughts that had plagued Robin for ages, but he just now had the time to contemplate them. Multiple people had pointed out features in Robin's appearance that were untrue. Some depicted him with long hair, while others even went as far to picture his hair as a bright luminous green. His facial attributes were misinterpreted by many, and Robin didn't know what to make of it. There were many people who claimed he had a beard or a scar on his face. However, he obviously had short brown hair above his skull, and very clean features. Or at least he thought he did.

But that was not the most disturbing thing that people believed about him. Some people _actually_ mistook Robin for a woman. This was clearly absurd and extraneously incorrect. Robin could not fathom how this came to be, but there was even a running joke that if it wasn't for Sumia, Chrom would have fallen for Robin.

"Heh" Robin chuckled thinking about the sheer madness of it before he focused his attention back to the matter at hand. He ultimately decided to walk down the long corridor and double back around to the courtyard. Everything would make sense once he returned to familiar territory

He traveled all the way to the end of the long room, but upon reaching it he gasped in horror. He was expecting to come across another wooden door, but to his bewilderment, he stood in front of a circular set of stairs. He had the option of going up, or going down.

"Where am I? And what is going on?" Robin said in an anxious tone. Robin was lost, but he didn't know how this was possible. He knew this castle better than the Exalt himself.

As Robin stared baffled at this new event, he felt compelled to descend down into the bowels of the castle. It was almost as if a force was pulling him closer and closer to the steps and he heard a faint whisper call him forth. His curiosity was heightened as he stared down the dark and ominous staircase.

"_No, no, no, no. This is how every horror story starts. Nope, I am not going down there._" Robin tried to calm his nerves and quickly ran up to the top of the stairs.

However, he was going the wrong way, and Robin clearly knew this. Deep down in his subconscious he knew that he needed to brave the deep and dark basement. To face his fears and persevere over whatever what may lay down there. He needed to overcome the obstacles and develop his character in ways he never knew existed. It was the obvious and climatic thing to do.

"_Nope, I am not going down there._" Robin thought defiantly and sprinted up the steps avoiding the dangers that lurked below. Robin ran up the stairs without any regard towards his purpose. And by this act of cowardly running away, he single handily ruined the entire story. The whole point of this entire narration was subverted and completely wasted.

*Sigh* Doesn't Robin know how much effort and time was used to make this story? But Because he was afraid to enter the area designed _specifically_ for him, he destroyed the entire reason to read this! Way to go Robin, It seems that you are almost as stupid and cowardly as the author.

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...

Now that Robin had diverged from the canon and correct path, he found himself in an empty room with a small circular table in the center and a door at the end. He slowly and carefully walked up to the table to look at the object on the table.

It was a chess board, but it was no ordinary chess board. You see, in Robin's spare time he had crafted his own special game. He had called it Fire Emblem. In this game a small group of people would venture through various maps and enemies to complete their missions. The battles were determined by the roll of a dice, and it was turned based. There were even two settings on how to play. Casual mode, and Serious mode.

Robin observed the board to notice this battle was over half way done and in a few turns the game would be over. But as he looked at the board he noticed something terrifying. Through the chaos and destruction of battle, one of Robin's friends had dropped to 0 HP. This piece was now dead and could never be used again in the battle. Luckily for Robin, the game was being played on Casual mode. Therefore the character would be ready to join the next melee like nothing had happened. Robin sighed in relief knowing that the character's unique personality would not be lost by the tragedy of war. Thus, losing all symbolism and depiction of the fragility of life.

...

However, what would have happened if he had played on serious mode? Would he have been more careful and not recklessly left that person to die on the front lines? Would the tactician's concern for the safety of his troops supersede his lust for victory? Or would fate intervene and keep the result the same? To think, that the character could have died a tragic and viscous death. The soldier would speak a few words with their dying breath and then collapse to the ground never to rise up again. The person would be dead and no longer a part of the campaign. His or her skill would be lost and any future children that man or woman might have had would be wiped from existence. It would be a very tragic and sad death indeed.

...

Unless...Unless Robin restarted the game! That's it! If Robin simply restarted the game then everything would be fine. He could obviously learn from his mistake and make sure it never happened again. The special qualities of that character would live on and continue to bring enjoyment to his fellow peers. Once again the dreadful and awful analogy of life and death would be thrown into the proverbial trash can. Thank goodness that Robin was fortunate enough to completely erase the laws of time and space.

"Phew." Robin sighed in relief. He was very fond of that character and would have hated to lose one of his friends.

But...But what if Robin didn't really care for said character? What if Robin held a disgruntled or unfavorable view of his comrade? Would it truly be worth it to take all the time and energy to restart the game? After all, Robin was busy man and could not be troubled to save everyone from his errors in judgement. If this character lacked the skill or the personality that Robin desired then what would be lost by their death? Sure, he might feel bad for a few moments and even say a few words at their ceremony, but soon he would completely forget about his friend and move on with his life. After that chapter the person's iconic character would be lost forever... Unless of course...he changed his mind and restarted the game.

Oh, and here is the kicker, what if Robin had already restarted the game to save that character and the person died a second time? How long would he keep replaying until he saved his friend or abandoned him? How much time would Robin expend before he no longer cared or shrugged off the loss. And what if another character died in the effort to save that comrade after he restarted the game? Would there be a never-ending sequence of death and sorrow until Robin finally got it right, or would he just give up?

In the end, the survival of every member depended on how much Robin weighed their importance. But of course, only a cold-hearted bastard would leave his friends to die because he had better things to do with his time.

"Augh, my head." Robin raised his hand to his forehead with a severe headache. These thoughts troubled Robin but luckily he was able to quickly shrug it off.

...

Seeing as there was nothing else in this room, Robin quickly walked away from the special chess board and stepped over to the wooden door at the end of the room. It was an old door that had been in place for decades. He heard a crashing sound come from behind it and the sound of footsteps. There were some whispers that died the second Robin approached the old and weathered door. Nervous, filled with an overwhelming anxiety of what could lay behind the door, he slowly opened it. The door squealed and creaked as the rusted hinges slowly broke from their metallic bond.

As the door swung open, he heard something rustle and before he knew it, over twenty shadows ran towards him. They sprinted at Robin without warning or reason.

"**SURPRISE!" **They shouted as loud as they could. Robin fell flat on his butt scared out of his wits. He felt his heart race as he looked at the faces. Everyone started laughing and pointing at Robin until someone finally extended their hand.

"Damn it Chrom, I could have had a heart attack!" Robin exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Don't tell me that you are that old already Robin." Lissa teased with her party hat on.

"Oy! Funny tactician that falls on floor like Sumia. Gregor be wishing you a happy birthday with much merry-making!" He raised his glass and continued to enjoy his drink.

Robin's body slowly recovered and he chuckled realizing that this was his birthday. It was one of the few things he remembered about his past other than his name, and his gender.

"How does it feel to be 23 Robin?" Cordelia asked with a cupcake in her hand

"Like yesterday I was 22." Robin said as he took a deep breath and felt his heart slow down. As his panic attack wore off he noticed the surroundings of the room. Robin saw a gigantic room filled with tables and chairs. The centerpiece of the room was a giant fluffy white cake with 23 candles centered around the edges, and Stahl was doing everything in his power not to look at it or fantasize about how it would taste.

"Come on Robin, let's celebrate." Lissa said eagerly.

"Heh, just give me a moment." Robin smiled and let his body recover.

Chrom patted him on the back and let him take his time. After all, Robin would need his strength to get through a party of this caliber. It would be a spectacular occasion and a very happy ending to a confusing day.

...

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And so concludes the story of Robin's morning. It had one of those unexpected twists in the plot that led to a happy ending. Surely, if this information was given at the beginning of the story then it would have been less surprising, but that was not the case. At least we can take comfort knowing that the main conflict of the story was resolved and the story ended on a joyous note.

However, there appears to be some plot holes in this story. Some things that the author carelessly failed to explain to you. In example, why did the door behind Robin mysteriously slam shut and lock behind him earlier in the story? What was so important that hid in the basement of the castle? Where was the panda? These questions would go unanswered as the author neglected to justify his sloppy story telling. However, it is also possible that he failed to notice these errors or forgot about them. The author wasn't very bright after all.

Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoyed my role in this story. As the narrator it is my duty to accurately describes the events and actions that take place within this world. Without me this story would have been a few short lines of confusing and pointless dialogue. Thus I am privileged and burdened with this great task. But now that this story has ended it is my turn to take my leave. At least I can honestly say that this was a fun and illuminating experience.

This concludes the Robin Parable, thank you for reading and have a nice day.

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_Now at this point I am sure you are wondering. "What the Hell did I just read?" __Maybe despite all the warnings, you took this story too literally and missed the entire point of this story. And_ now you are hoping for the narrator to tell you the reason because this story obviously didn't make any sense. But I am afraid I don't have an answer for you. You will have to find you own logic for this story. 

_Perhaps the author abused a medical substance and wrote this in his alternate realty, or he was heavily drunk and next to a keyboard. Maybe someone hacked into the author's profile and is trying to damage his reputation. Or maybe, just maybe this story makes sense, but **you** are the insane one. Now that is something to ponder about as we slowly fade out of this scene and say goodbye. However before I go, I will leave you with one more thought; maybe this story would make more sense to you if you read the next chapter...and the next chapter...and the next chapter._


	2. Chrom Parable

Hello there and welcome back. Although I am truly shocked by your willingness to experience more of this parody, I will be glad to continue narrating this exciting and serious tale of the Fire Emblem Parable as per your requests. If you feel lost at any point during this chapter, it might be helpful to reread the demo in the previous section to help you remember the important and unique features of this serious story.

Also, at this time I must warn you that I, the narrator, do _**not**_ own the Fire Emblem Franchise. You see, I am compelled to state this for legal purposes. In the event that I was to be sued, I would be excluded from a prison sentence thanks to this disclaimer. If I did not have this disclaimer than I shudder to think what would have happened in the event of a legal court battle. They could demand to take all the money that I have earned from your patronage, and strip me of my esteemed reputation as a certified narrator.

Some people do not realize the seriousness of this legal council and even joke about it, but I assure you that this is necessary for_ every_ story. Thank you disclaimers for protecting me from unneeded lawsuits that would never happen in the first place.

*Ahem* Since this legal action is now taken care of, I will now add a horizontal line insert to conclude this narration note and begin the story. Please pay no attention to the 0.25 point font hidden within the line that contains even more legal fine print.

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This a story about a man named Chrom. Chrom rules the country of Ylisse as the exalt of peace and prosperity. Chrom's job was simple, he would inspire the entire country through his courageous actions and deeds and help people in need. This is what Chrom did every day, of every month, of every year. And although some might have considered it exhausting, Chrom never ceased to use every ounce of his energy to help his Haildom flourish.

And Chrom, was happy.

...

And then one day something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Chrom. Something he would never quite forget. He was napping at his desk for nearly an hour when he realized that no one tried to interrupt his slumber. Not even Frederick the Wary who usually demanded he rise and help him do something tedious. Never in all of his years as a member of the royal family had he been able to sleep for more than ten minutes during the day. Confused, Chrom was unable to move from his chair for the longest time.

But as he woke up and regained his senses. He got up from his desk and stepped outside. He rubbed his eyes and cursed the sun for being so bright before he journeyed over to Robin's office to say hi. But as he opened the door to his best friend's work place, he found it completely devoid of any human life. The only other thing out of the ordinary was a couple of books scattered on the floor that fallen from Robin's desk.

"Heh, it's not like Robin to miss a day at work, he must be tired after his birthday party yesterday." Chrom flashed back to the night before and laughed about every thing that happened. Although he did not recall anything specifically or else it would have been displayed in italic memories for the audience to see. After standing there reminiscing for a full thirty-seven seconds, Chrom decided to pick up the books from the floor.

"Leave it to Robin to not pick up after himself." Chrom chuckled as he stepped over to Robin's bookshelf to put them back.

But it was strange, because he didn't recall Robin owning such a massive bookcase in his office. It was over ten feet high and it contained a large array of books and novels all thicker than Chrom's arms. And upon further inspection, he noticed that there were only two open slots left to put books in, and Chrom assumed that they were meant for the two novels in his hands.

"Sheesh, how does Robin read all of these?" Chrom pondered the large collection of volumes as he put the first book back into its home.

*Click*

"Hmm? Did I hear something?" Chrom questioned the empty room around him. He shrugged it off and put the second book it its nook. Because after hearing a strange sound in a bizarre situation it is customary to repeat the process once again. Completely ignoring any dangers that may come along with this strange occurrence.

*Click*

"Hmm? There it was again." Chrom said confused. He was puzzled about what was making the clicking noise, and if he had a third book he would have repeated the process to get the same result. And although that would have accomplished nothing, it would at least make Chrom feel better thinking that he was on to discovering something. When in reality he would just make something click again and furthering his curiosity. Chrom would do anything to try to understand this strange new event.

After all, this was obviously a puzzle, and if he did not try to solve it than he would spend the rest of his life wondering what made that strange sound. It was his job, nay! his **_Duty_** as a human being to discover what this strange contraption was. He must solve the riddle of this strange enigma. He must conqueror the unforeseen and challenge the world. He must _overcome_ this battle of wits and unlock the mysteries hidden within this device. The fate of the entire world could depend on it and only _HE_ could figure it out! For honor, glory, and country, he would solve this puzzle or his name was not **Chrom the Exalt of Peace and Prosperity!**

...

But after spending a full ten minutes repetitively taking books in and out of the shelf trying to decipher this puzzle; he finally gave up. It was hurting his brain too much and he tried every thing he could think of. If only he had some sort of encyclopedia on how to solve this specific puzzle he could progress further into the story, but alas no such thing existed. Chrom shrugged his shoulders and sighed as he kicked the book shelf in disappointment.

And then, all of a sudden, the ground started shaking and the books trembled inside their wooden refuge. The bookcase slowly started to move from its spot and many hardcover publications fell to ground because of the violent earthquake. Chrom struggled to regain his balance as the tremors continued, but when it finally subsided; Chrom stood baffled. He gazed directly into a narrow hallway which was revealed when the bookcase slid open. Shocked, frozen solid, Chrom could not even fathom what may lie down this strange new entryway.

"Whuh..What? Why does Robin have a secret passageway?" Chrom questioned with no one to respond to his predicament. He could not understand why Robin would hide something from the Shepherds. He was a very modest man with not very many secrets, and Chrom was his best friend. What could there possibly be to hide?

His curiosity had heightened and he felt a burning desire to explore this new area. He had to investigate this bizarre event and discover what was so important. "...No...this is a secret for a reason" Chrom sighed, "It is none of my business to invade his personal space... Besides, I am sure he has a good reason for this anyways." He said trying to reassure himself of his decision, and headed back to the door trying to forget his fascination of the mysterious corridor.

But as he approached the open door it violently slammed shut in front of his face. "What?!" Chrom jumped back in shock and stared blankly at the door. He extended his hand to turn the knob, but it would not budge. "Locked?! But how?!" He cried anxiously. He desperately pounded on the door and tried to open it, but the lock would not budge. He was trapped in this room and there was no way to open the door.

"What is going on!" Chrom said frantically. He stepped away from the door and looked at it in sheer horror. He desperately searched his mind for a way to get out of this new problem. "...A key!" Chrom cried emphatically. "I need to find a key to get out of here!" He said with fierce determination.

He started searching the room for any thing that could open the door. Nevertheless, no matter how hard he searched, he could not find a key, a lock pick, or even a hair pin, but then again Robin was a man so it would be strange if he had a hair pin in his office. Alas, his efforts went in vain and Chrom had only one option left. He had to enter the hallway that was previously concealed by the book shelf. There was nothing else he could do.

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Chrom slowly traversed through the secret cave lit only by torch fire. It was dark and ominous and there was an eerie fog further down. Chrom could feel a small breeze of wind touch his arms and he immediately tensed from the cold. He was shivering now, and the further he delved in, the colder he got. "B-brr, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." He said nervously. It was nearing frigid conditions and he nearly slipped on the icy ground below him.

"Gah, I hope this tunnel ends before I freeze to death." Chrom said worried. He had this strange and paranoid feeling that there was someone behind him. Someone watching his every move and thought. Someone inside his head.

And now he felt like someone was narrating his thoughts and actions.

And now that person was narrating that he was narrating his thoughts and this only made him tense up even more; he thought. But this strange sensation quickly left his brain and he immediately tried to forget it. After all, the fourth wall cannot be broken or else it would completely ruin the mood and atmosphere of the story.

That is truly the worse crime to commit in a story. Never, and I mean never should the story be side tracked by a non relevant thought or idea. Oh! By the way, did you know that there are 1 million ants for every person in the world? I wonder if someone counted each one individually to find out about that.

*Ahem*

A minute later walking through the corridor, Chrom encountered two cave entrances. One to his right, and to his left. However, the one to his right had collapsed and was now covered in a mountain of rocks. There would be no way to get around it, so he could only travel through the left path. There was no decision or even a second thought about going the other way, because it would be impossible. Fate had scripted him to go through the left cave, and there would be no detour to hinder his destiny.

Nevertheless, Chrom had to stop for a second and think about this since it was not the first time fate had bound his hands and forced him to walk one path.

Even after surviving a potential Armageddon and vanquishing Grima, his fate was still the same the entire time. Unbeknownst to Chrom, he was destined to meet a robed man in the field. It was fate which prescribed that he was to be married after a viscous and grueling war with the Plegian army. And Chrom was not welcomed with a wide selection of potential candidates like Robin was. Even if Chrom tried to fight getting married he could not go against Fate's wishes. In the end, he would fall in love with someone whether it be Sumia, Maribelle, or the random peasant that caught Chrom's eye. Not even time travel could break the will of this mysterious force.

In fact, out of all the people in Ylisse, Chrom's life was the only one that was not dramatically changed. Everyone else in the world could have died in this new time line, or even survive a fate that would have killed them thanks to this second chance, but not Chrom. His life was scripted in both the old and the new world. Even the fight against Valider remained the same. Chrom ended up being stabbed in the gut by his best friend as the Plegian king laugh manically. And although the conditions of the fight were slightly different, it did not affect Chrom in any way. Because Chrom never died in the desert of the old world.

How else would Lucina remember spending time with her father if he had died in that scripted event? Surely, the Shepherds would have dragged him to safety before the world started to implode and Grima resurrected himself. After all, Lucina specifically stated that she learned to fight from her father, and even has fond memories of him. So he must have lived to an unspecified point in time in the old world.

Even in Robin's made up board game called Fire Emblem, if Chrom was to die in serious or causal mode, then the game would automatically restart and try again because he did not have the option to die. It would completely destroy the game and the important scripted plot lines of the future.

No matter how you look at it, in Chrom's life, he only had one real choice. He could take Grima's ability to harm others with his blade, or watch Robin sacrifice himself to end it once and for all. But in retrospect, that was not much of a choice either. If Chrom was to be selfish and prevent Robin from killing himself, then Grima would be resurrected in the eventual future. Chrom would not have prevented the apocalypse, but merely delayed its certain devastation. Thus, the entire reason for the whole story would have been ruined by one act of selfishness.

As Chrom thought about these thoughts, it hurt his head terribly. "No, Robin said we are not merely some pawns of a scripted fate." Chrom tried to deny the evidence in front of him. Robin's conclusion was indeed correct for 99% of the world. Everyone's lives changed to some extent because of this new time line. Except for one young lord. He was still predestined to do everything in his life similarly to his old self. The only difference in Chrom's life was the journey he took.

Although the outcome of each plot point remained the same except for the climatic ending, the journey along the way was different. Chrom grew a stronger bond to his friends and even his own daughter, and though this did not change his fate, it did count for something right?

Perchance it is similar in the aspect that 2+2= 4 and 2x2= 4. They both ended up with the same outcome, but the journey to that process was different. Some people would even argue that the journey is more exciting than the destination. After all, would you really read a story to hear the_ once upon a time_ and the _happily ever after_? Or do you wish to know the exciting and thrilling adventure that took place inside those two archaic phrases?

So perhaps it does not matter if his life was determined by fate or not. Even if fate dictated his every move did it really matter if he enjoyed the journey he took on it? While he may have not been able to control the destiny of his own path, he could change the method of how he reached it. And that is what truly matters, not the goal in front of you, but the way you reach it.

"Gah, I think I have a splitting headache." Chrom raised his hand to his forehead and felt the pain embed into his brain. He decided to stop thinking about the subject and move on through the cave system.

...

Chrom continued onwards through the freezing tunnel until he saw a bright white light at the other side. As he stepped closer and closer the light grew brighter until it completely engulfed his entire line of vision.

Cautiously, Chrom stepped through it and he was blinded for a moment, but as he rubbed his eyes he saw **IT. **Chrom gasped in surprise and he finally began to understand. It all made sense now. The door closing behind him, the frigid temperature. The answer was right in front of him, and he felt an unhealthy need to touch **IT**.

Chrom slowly extended his hand and approached the-

...

...

..

..

..

..

.

.

.

* * *

*Ahem*

I am terribly sorry sir or madam. It appears that this part of the story hasn't been wrote yet. The stupid author had other things to do with his time than complete this section of the story. Pfft, I bet he would claim his laziness on his school work or the holidays which prevented him from updating, or perhaps a tragic event in his life barred him from finishing this story.

But that is not the case for this idiotic moron. No, he was simply to lazy to come up with an ending. So to make it more exciting and eventful he ended it on a cliff hanger. Perhaps the brainless author would even promise the resolution in the next chapter. But we all know that he has no intention of updating it.

*Sigh*

To think about all the time wasted in the process of making this incomplete story. Even you the reader must now suffer this because he had the audacity to post it for you to read! We will never know why Robin decided to hid something in an abandoned frigid hallway. We will never understand what Chrom had laid his eyes upon.

...

...

Unless... ...no... no that could never work... ...But I suppose...yes ...I believe that is possible.

How about we create our own ending for this then? We can finish what the bonehead author started. We can make our own ending and it will be a thousand times better than whatever the dolt could have imagined.

Hmm, but where do we begin? There is so many possibilities that Chrom could have seen behind that veil of white light. That is both the beauty and the curse of the imagination. It can go off in a tangent and lead to a whole new exciting world. I am sure your mind is surging with ideas that could have ended this story and give you some peace of mind.

Perhaps within that room he found the key to knowledge and wisdom. The ability to not only control his journey but also his fate. To be the master of his own will. ...Yes, I quite like that ending.

Or maybe he met Naga and she explained everything to him as he learned to understand his role in the world... ... No, no that is too simple and predictable.

Oh! I know, within the new room he entered, he encountered a giant black and white monster eating wood like it was food. Within that mask of illumination hid the infamous panda! ... ...No, that is just stupid.

Hmm...

...

Ah! I got it. Yes by using logical deduction I have solved the puzzle. There could only be one thing in the world that Robin would hide from his comrades. One thing that no one could see or it would lead to trouble. Now listen closely because this is the correct answer to using our imagination.

You see, in the DLC Roster Rescue, one of the monsters steals Robin's Roster. It contains all of the Shepherds secrets and if it were to fall into the wrong hands then the entire army would die of embarrassment. They had to fight to get the book back, and after winning, the Shepherds tried to read and or destroy the book. Therefore, after the war Robin kept it safe and hidden away so no one could ever misuse it. That is why he hid it behind his bookcase. It even had securities measures that would automatically lock the door so no one could escape with the book. And as for the frigid temperature, it was obviously winter time.

Eventually, Robin would discover that someone had tripped his alarm and come searching. Upon finding Chrom he would laugh and make a joke before the scene ended and I would say-

they lived happily ever after.


	3. Frederick Parable

Congratulations sir or madam!

You have earned the achievement: _Fire Emblem Novice_

You've been awarded this prestigious title thanks to your basic understanding and comprehension of the Fire Emblem universe. You should personally feel special about yourself because you are one of the select few that have achieved this momentous accomplishment.

You and the millions of other people who clicked on this chapter are renowned with this magnificent and rare title. You can now gloat to your friends (assuming you have any) and smugly insult them about their inferiority to your impregnable reading skills.

As a reward, I will now bestow upon you a cookie to acknowledge all of your hard work and prove that you earned this credibility.

...

Wait a second. No, you didn't really earn this cookie now did you? All you simply did was click on this chapter. This achievement is far too easy to hand out cookies. After all what is so special about an achievement if anyone could do it? There was no effort or labor, and I bet you didn't even know there were achievements in the first place.

No matter how you look at it, we can honestly say that you did not deserve this cookie. In fact, I believe that I, the narrator, deserve this cookie exponentially more times than you. Please excuse me as I savor and consume this exquisite and beautifully crafted chocolate chip cookie.

*munch*

*munch*

*swallow*

Ah, that was a wonderful sensation that tingled my taste buds. It is a shame you could not enjoy such a fantastic experience, but alas you did not earn it.

Perhaps when you reach the achievement of _Fire Emblem Intermediate _than you will be capable of enjoying such an occasion. In order to complete this feat, you will need to read _five _chapters of this story and write a hundred page, single spaced essay containing no less than 70,000 words on the evolution of Fire Emblem's mechanics. That is what it takes to truly earn the honor of such a magnificent cookie. I guarantee you that you will be the only person in the world that would accomplish this task, and I also like to refer to this achievement as _You have no life._

But moving back to the story and forgetting this lengthy narration note. We will now follow the day of another character from the Fire Emblem world... Huzzah!

* * *

...

This is a story about a man named Frederick. Frederick is a devoted servant to the royal family. Frederick's job was simple, he would remove pebbles that Chrom might encounter on the road and mercilessly attack anyone who would try to harm his liege. This is what Frederick did every day, of every month, of every year. And although some might have considered his behavior eccentric. Frederick fulfilled his duty to the country and helped keep everything in order. In truth, Chrom would be lost without his loyal servant.

And Frederick, was silently happy.

And then one day something peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Frederick. Something he would never quite forget. He had been training at the castle gate for nearly an hour without coming across a single person. However, this absence of sentient life was not peculiar because it was four in the morning. At such an early point in the day, Frederick was the only soul in the entire realm who was awake. It would be another hour or so before any normal person woke up from their pleasant slumber and set out to make ready for the day. Nonetheless, it was a rather ordinary and frequent occasion for Frederick to be up at this hour, but of course, today was no ordinary day or else I would have no reason to narrate this.

After Frederick finished his training exercises, he walked back to his room and opened his door. However, as the door slowly swung open, Frederick witnessed a scene that horrified his very soul. It was so atrocious that Frederick had a hard time comprehending what his eyes had seen. Shocked, frozen solid, Frederick was unable to move for the longest time.

But as he slowly recovered from the hideous affair; he set to work to fix the disgusting and disturbing object that was on his floor. He slowly and carefully approached the piece of stone that rested on his wooden floor, but this was no mere pebble or piece of gravel, no, it was a rock!

This villainous rock was the size of Frederick's hand and it threatened to trip anyone that would come across its path. But perhaps the most horrifying part of it all was the fact that this menacing slab of earth was in Frederick's room. It was inexplicable and preposterous that this rock could enter the stronghold of Frederick's anti-pebble defenses, but that did not change the fact that this rock lay motionless on his floor openly mocking him and his inability to cure the world of tripping hazards.

"My old nemesis." Frederick growled at the rock in front of him. "You will not harm anyone ever again!" Frederick pounced on the rock with the speed of a cheetah and picked it up with his right hand. Frederick looked intently at his foe and upon closer inspection he noticed an inscription on the cobblestone chunk.

_We are many. You are one. We will conqueror the world and there is nothing you can do to stop us._

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Frederick said sternly and completely ignoring the oddity of the situation. He walked over to the trashcan in his room and violently threw it in. For good measure, Frederick put a lid on the waste basket and locked it with heavy chains so the rock could not escape. When it was safe, he would hold a trial and if found guilty, execute the rock at a later date. And although some would be concerned about Frederick's irrational behavior, it was his purpose in life to rid the world of this vile tripping threat.

...

Now satisfied that the rock had seen justice, Frederick went back to his original agenda. It was at this time that he would help maintain and improve the weapons cache. So after grabbing his sharpening stone from his desk (which is completely different from a regular rock), he headed to the armory to perform his first task of the day. He did so with vigor and never once stopped to take a break. Frederick was in such great shape from his exercises that he did not even break a sweat during his routine of improving the weapons edges.

It was because Frederick trained with constant determination and never slouched from his duty that he became such a powerful knight. So powerful, that he earned nicknames such as Jagen and Oifey. These were of course very common archetypes and if Frederick did not know what they meant, than he deserved to be stripped of any _novice_ achievements he might have received during his reading quests and be deported to Antarctica.

...

Frederick was also revered with the spear and he was always there to save the day when Robin errored in his judgment on the battlefield; which happened very frequently. His powerful silver spear and shining blue armor would help even the worst tactician survive the first few battles. Frederick was so talented that he could single handily destroy every bandit or rogue that threatened Chrom or Lissa's life. In the early stages of the first campaign, he would be the only soldier actually needed to win the conflict. But of course, this would rob the Shepherds of valuable experience and knowledge of combat; thus hurting their ability to reach their true potential. This would have dire effects when the Shepherds fought against more experienced foes, but since Frederick was humble and not a glory hound, he let his fellow comrades learn the fundamentals of war.

Eventually, the tactician would realize that it is best to use Frederick sparingly and only in cases when he completely messes up his tactics, or if he was lazy and did not want to command other people to do the job. After everyone reached their apex, then Frederick could be used later in the campaign to unlock his true potential as a great knight by removing the master seal on his strengths.

...

"Heh" Frederick grunted and a small smirk appeared on his face. He had just finished sharpening the final sword in the armory and its tip was now deadlier than the day it was forged. Content with his work, Frederick dropped the sword back in its sheathe and proceeded to leave the arsenal. But as he got up and approached the exit, he came across two closed doors. One on his left labeled _exit_ and the other to his right called _exciting adventure!_

Stunned, Frederick was perplexed at this new event. He did not recall there being a second door at the end of the armory. He could not even look through the door frame to see what might lie on the other side because the door was closed. Frederick also had this strange feeling that he could only pick one option. But of course, the obvious choice was to enter the door on his left labeled exit. Deep down in his subconscious a voice urged him to ignore his curiosity towards this strange anomaly.

And Frederick obediently did so without even giving it a second thought. After all, Frederick was an extremely busy man and did not have time for an exciting adventure. His curiosity would remain unsatisfied because his other chores were of a far greater concern. Most notably, Frederick needed to begin dusting the castle so no vile dead skin cells would enter Chrom's nose. So he calmly opened the door on his left and prepared to do the next duty on his agenda.

But that is when Frederick reeled back in surprise. After opening said door, TWO rocks waited for him on the other side. Each the size of Frederick's fist, and both inscribed with the words.

_We are many. You are one. We will conqueror the world and there is nothing you can do to stop us._

"How did you get here!?" He said stunned, but the only answer he would receive would be the words carved into the rocks facade. Frederick immediately picked up these two rocks and rushed back to his room will all haste. He slammed his door wide open and went to his trashcan, but to his dismay, the trashcan's lid had been taken off. The chains on the trashcan were also destroyed and the stone prisoner had escaped!

Immediately, Frederick looked around his quarters with his precision eyes to find the rock he encountered earlier, but his search went in vain. The rock had fled from his grasp and would never return to face his trial and possible execution. No matter how hard Frederick would look; he would never find the accursed stone. After giving up on his futile search; Frederick decided to take drastic measures. The two rocks he still had would have to be taken care of immediately or else they could escape too.

Therefore, Frederick went over to his table and opened one of the drawers in his desk. The drawer was neatly and orderly arranged and he had no trouble finding what he was looking for.

"This should take care of it." Frederick said confidently. He pulled out a hammer and gripped it firmly in his hand. He carried the two stone balls in his other hand and walk outside. Now that he was no longer on a wooden floor, Frederick set them down on the cobble stone path and prepared to end this once and for all.

With great care and strength, Frederick raised his arm and sent it crashing down on to one of the rocks. It cracked instantly and left five shards in its place. But Frederick was not done. He hit it again and again until it turned into a fine gray powder so it would not even be a threat to Sumia's clumsiness. Then, Frederick went to the next rock and repeated the process until it too was pulverized.

After that was done, he took a deep breath knowing that the vermin had been dealt with and went back to his room to put the hammer away. But as he reached his desk, he glanced at a small framed portrait on his table. It depicted him, his wife, and his child all smiling with the sun setting in the background. The great knight wore a rare grin on his face as he looked at his most beloved treasure. Even his duty to serve Chrom did not compare to the affection he had for his family. However, there was a bitter truth to this relationship that Frederick did not realize.

...

Although Frederick was an exceptional father and did everything in his power to make them happy; his presence in the family did not actually matter. Whether he existed or not, the children of the old timeline would still grow up with their own unique personality completely unaffected by their father's presence. Unfortunately for Frederick, he did not have his own special child that was directly tied to him like Robin or Chrom. He had no Morgan or Lucina that would have their own special support with him. Instead he had recycled dialogue with his boy/girl.

And if Frederick was to die, it would not be as severe as the loss of Robin, Chrom, or any woman who were fertile. In example, if Cordelia was to be mercilessly and accidentally killed by the narrator, not only would she die, but her child would cease to exist as well. On the other hand, if Frederick was to be killed in action, the only loss would be a potential mate for Cordelia. The ability for Severa to still exist was not directly hindered by his death. Therefore, the women were more important to protect because not only did they bear the risk of losing their own life, but their future child's existence as well.

Also, If Frederick's wife had married another shepherd, than nothing would have changed. Her child would still act and look the same. His role in the relationship was meaningless. The only contribution Frederick had on his offspring was their hair color, and anyone who births an infant so their child would have a certain hair color is almost as stupid as someone conceiving a child just so they could use Galeforce to murder other people. Those people are heartless bastards, and they are almost as dumb as the author.

However, Frederick would have no way of knowing this conundrum. How could he realize this paradox if no one else ever married his wife? Frederick would have to travel to an alternate dimension to see his wife married to another suitor to understand that he held no power in the family relationship. And since the out-realm gate and a second play-through is not a part of this parable; Frederick would remain blissfully unaware of this for the rest of his life.

Perhaps that was for the best though. Frederick was happy with his life and why should he be concerned about matter that he had no control over? He would only be hurt emotionally by this information and question his happy marriage's legitimacy. That would lead to unneeded drama and conflicts until Frederick would finally decide that he no longer cared about it and continued to give his unconditional love to his wife and child.

As some might say; Ignorance is bliss.

* * *

But After Frederick finished not thinking about this abstract concept, he put the hammer away and stole one last glance at the love of his life. Whoever that may be. Then, he grabbed his duster that was underneath his pillow and walked back to his door to open it. As the door swayed open, Frederick once again saw a terrifying sight. On the other side of the door frame stood THREE rocks. Once more, there was lettering on the surface of the ore as they mocked the knight in blue with their presence.

_We are many. You are one. __We are many. You are one. __We are many. You are one. _

"I don't know how you keep coming back here, but I will destroy all of you and protect Chrom from your treachery!" Frederick yelled as he stared down his most hated rivals. But no matter what Frederick did, there always seemed to be more rocks coming across his path and he was growing concerned. After he finished grounding these three rocks into dust, he realized that there was a possibility of more stones showing up with the strange and threatening taunt of _We are many_. It was also nearing day time, and someone else could fall victim to these dangerous rocks. It was almost certain that more and more mysterious clumps of earth would invaded the castle grounds and trip anyone with two legs.

"I have to warn Chrom!" Frederick said urgently. He would need to inform the Exalt about this epidemic immediately. Frederick sprinted as fast as humanly possible to Chrom's quarters and pounded furiously on his door. "Chrom! Chrom! There is an emergency that I must warn you about."

...

...

Frederick waited for a response, but he received no reply from Chrom. Not even a groan of tiredness and something was very clearly wrong. Frederick pounded on the door once again with his fist until the door slowly and eerily creaked open.

"Chrom!" Frederick called out, but no one was there to respond. After waiting for a full 12.38 seconds, He quietly entered his master's home and assumed that he must be taking a bath and was unable to call back to him. However this matter was very serious and he needed to be warned immediately. So Frederick busted through the bathroom door ignoring any regard to Chrom's privacy and ran to the bath tub to warn him about the potential doomsday. But unfortunately for Frederick, he was not there either.

"CHROM! Frederick shouted anxiously and ran through the house looking for him. It was not like Chrom to wake up early an leave his house; especially on a Sunday in the winter time. Frederick went to Chrom's bedroom and noticed a lump inside the blanket. Assuming he was still sleeping, Frederick called out to him one last time. "Chrom wake up. I have a matter of the utmost concern!"

Silence filled the room, and Frederick decided to pull the navy blue sheet off of the bed to wake up Chrom. But as the linen cloth was moved from its resting place, it showed something in the bed; and it was not Chrom. The objects lying on the bed were Frederick's worst nightmare; however there was not four rocks, because that would be predictable and imply a pattern. Instead, there was **Five** rocks on the bed, and one even had to the nerve to rest on Chrom's pillow.

"You swine! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO CHROM?!" Frederick said in extreme anger and rage while keeping a perfect posture.

_We are many, you are one. We are aplenty, and your friend lies dead because we wanted to have fun. _

YOU BASTARDS!" Frederick yelled in extreme fury. He could not come to grips with the fact that is master was dead and he failed to protect him. Frederick was on the verge of tears as he yelled. "I will destroy every last one of you and avenge my liege!"

He ran as fast as he could to the armory with the five rocks in his other hand and picked up a giant war hammer from the arsenal. He mercilessly turned them to dust and ran back outside with the sledge-hammer in his hands yelling at anything that remotely resembled a piece of stone.

...

...

...

"AHAHAHAHA"*snort* snort* "tee hee hee HAHAHA- ow... Oh, I am laughing so hard that it hurts." Lissa said as she watched Frederick flail around the courtyard.

"Heh, We should probably tell him now." Chrom spoke trying to hold his own laughter.

"Aww, just one more minute okay?"

... "Okay one more minute couldn't hurt." Chrom chuckled.

"Erg, what is going on?" A robbed tactician asked wearily since he just woke up. He looked through his tired eyes to see the two royal figures hiding behind a window laughing while looking at the courtyard.

"hee heee haha, oh hey Robin!" Lissa said as she held her side which was hurting from laughing so hard. "We are playing a prank on Frederick. Hee hee ahaha *snort* *snort*"

"Huh?" Robin asked confused.

"We put a few rocks around the castle and wrote on them to scare Frederick. But I think it may have gone a little out of control." Chrom said trying to hold in his chortling.

"...Is that why I saw Frederick running to the treasury with a hammer in his hand and swearing death to all rocks?"

"Ha Ha *snort* Yeah." Lissa smiled

"Heh, well you better make sure he-" *Yawn* Robin unconsciously yawned because he was still waking up. This turned out to be contagious and made Chrom and Lissa yawn as well. Furthermore, Robin yawned again because he saw the other two yawn, and this created a chain reaction. Funny how the mere action of yawning creates a subconscious desire to reciprocate the action. Even just the suggestion of yawning or thinking about it can make you open your mouth. And the only solution to this is to _Not _think about yawning.

...

As Lissa covered her mouth to end the cycle, she said "Hmm, but if Frederick is trying to destroy every rock he sees than why is he going to the treasury? Lissa asked confused.

"I dunno." Robin said groggily, "Is that where he usually stores the rocks he picks up?"

"Ha ha *snort* ...no that would be silly, the treasury is only for gold coins and precious stones." ... ... Lissa eyes widened and grew in shock as she spoke those last words. "NO! Frederick!" She ran as fast as her leg could and Robin heard her high pitched voice get quieter the further she ran. "**Don't** **smash** the diamonds!_ They are really pretty and expensive!"_

* * *

_._

_._

_Thus concludes the Frederick Parable. _

_I must say, It was nice to actually have a character listen to me for a change. Never once did we diverge from the story even when Frederick was given the option. His obedience to keeping the story in canon kept everything on track and orderly. If only he had played my previous artwork instead of Stanley than people would have realized the true beauty of my genius. It is a shame though, I thought for sure the panda would have been in this one. _

_But there is no time to dwell on the past in a narration note. So I will let you get back to your lives while I eat another delicious cookie. _

_*munch*_


	4. Gregor Parable

Quockerwodger. - A wooden puppet, controlled by strings.

*You have gained 5 exp for learning a new word.*

You just need 283,437 more experience before you can increase your reading skill to level 2. This is a very important talent and raising your attribute in this skill will help you in many beneficial ways.

For instance, upon leveling up, you will be able to read a full page of text .042 seconds faster. Your long term memory will increase by 2 points and this will slightly raise your low intelligence level. Furthermore, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you will be able to throw heavy books at +1 damage, and if you are in a crisis situation than you can bore the enemy to death by reciting the dictionary in alphabetical order.

_Please note that these benefits are dictated by the roll of a dice and should you fail to roll the required number than you will not gain these skill sets. The number you need to roll is determined by your intelligence, strength, luck, and dexterity. Needless to say, you have a high chance of failing._

As you can see, increasing your knowledge in this attribute is crucial to surviving everyday life. You should dedicate the next four months training as a hermit on Mount Everest to improve your reading skills and train a better you. However, before you go on your journey, I will present to you a parable that you can contemplate on during your long length of isolation and frostbite.

Without further ado, I present to you, my vivid, enthralling, and scholarly rendition of the mortal mind through a Fire Emblem character.

* * *

*Ahem*

This is the story about a man named Gregor. Gregor is a sell-sword that works for anyone who will hire him. Gregor's job was simple, he would slice the enemy into pieces and then get paid. This is what Gregor did every day, of every month, of every year. And although others might have considered it barbaric. Gregor loved his job and fulfilled it with a strict code of honor.

And Gregor, was jolly.

…

And then one day something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Gregor. Something that he would probably never forget. He had been at the tavern drinking for nearly an hour when he realized that the inn was completely empty. Not even the bartender was present and Gregor had to fill his own drinks. It was bizarre and never in the many years of Gregor's life had this happened. Drunk, frozen solid, Gregor was unable to move from his bar-stool for the longest time.

But as he slowly sobered up and regained his senses, he got up from the bar and exited the tavern moderately intoxicated. He gazed out to the city through his blurry drunkard state, but to his mystification, he did not see a single person walking through the market place either. It was very odd indeed and Anna's worst nightmare.

Gregor decided to investigate this anomaly and searched for an idea on how to start...After straining his head for over five minutes, Gregor decided to go the castle and ask the Exalt about this strange issue, but as he reached the fortress, it too was abandoned.

"Yoo hoo! Anyone home to welcome Gregor?" He called out to an empty castle. No one was here either and Gregor would roam the halls for half an hour in search of any other life. Eventually, he came to a set of two open doors and Gregor felt a voice inside of his skull tell him that the secret to this nightmare lies behind one of the them.

"Hmm, Gregor has two choices to make. Gregor must think about what decision to choose." Gregor said without using the proper English language. He failed to realize that when referring to oneself it is best to use the indicator 'I.' His use of talking in third person also makes it harder to differentiate from his speech and my brilliant narration. But as Gregor thought over his mistakes in dialogue, he went through the door on his left.

"Oy! Gregor smells sweet treats coming from right door! Mmmmm, Gregor smells cake!"

*Ahem* But as he stood next to two open doors. Gregor entered the door to his _**left.**_

"But Gregor wants to enter the door on right!" He said emphatically. It was remarkable how a simple smell of pastries could distract Gregor from his quest to discover why everyone on the entire city had mysteriously disappeared.

"Hmm, who speaks to Gregor? Show yourself!" Gregor said disillusioned like he heard a voice, but not a single person was there.

"You can't fool Gregor, Gregor hears you speaking!" He cried.

*Sigh* Gregor's delusions were now affecting the story and therefore wasting the narrator's time. Gregor did not realize how imperative it was to walk through the left door, but yet he continued to delay our journey by smelling a false scent that came from the right door.

"What is special about left door strange sounding voice?" Gregor sai-

...Wait...no... that's impossible. There is no way he can hear me.

"Gregor is confused, who can't hear you?"

...Gregor?

"Oy, why does person keep saying Gregor's name?"

But how did you...? Gregor, You are not supposed to be able to hear my narration. It breaks the fourth wall! It disregards every ounce of legitimate story telling and ruins my narration!

"Gregor hears, but does not see mysterious voice"

Of course not! I don't exist, I have no tangible connection to reality. I am not even a part of this world so you should not even be able to hear me!

"But Gregor does hear you and your nar irritation."

... Narration.

"Gregor no understands."

*Sigh* I am the person that describes your thoughts, actions, and emotions.

"Hmm? Why?"

It's not important. Just pretend like you don't hear me so we can progress with the story.

"But Gregor does hear you and Gregor has many question to ask deep and invisible voice."

Look, Gregor, I don't have time for your questions and neither do the people reading the story.

"Hmm? Other people are watching Gregor too?"

Yes, that is why you are here Gregor, for their entertainment. But you are ruining this story by talking to me!

"Oy, Gregor does not want to disappoint nice people. "

*Sigh* Just enter the door on your left so we can continue and forget this.

"But Gregor still wants to enter the right door. Gregor smells heavenly scent of cake."

...

Listen you incompetent mercenary, what is more important to you, discovering the truth of the world around you or eating a pathetic cake?

"Hmm, tough question. Gregor will have to think for a moment." He said and scratched his head in deep thought. It was a miracle that he could think in the first place.

In fact, it was a miracle that anyone would even talk to him. Even more bizarre, he had TEN possible candidates for marriage, and hypothetically speaking, if Robin was a girl, which he isn't, than Gregor would have had eleven possible people he could have married. This was inexplicable and beyond comprehension. Gregor could potentially father every child in the entire world except for Lucina and Cynthia. How can a drunken oaf with no regard to the English language or story telling have so many people swoon over him?

What woman would even be remotely attracted to an old and rough mercenary? The only one older than Gregor would be Nowi and that raises a few alarm bells in itself. Everyone else that Gregor could marry was far younger than him and had a bright future ahead of them. And yet, they chose to tie themselves down Gregor even though they had much better options in their life. The Drunkard without one good quality in the world.

"Maybe ladies like Gregor because Gregor is nice and devotes soul to beautiful maiden. When Gregor sees beautiful flower, Gregor would do anything to see them happy. Even hurt self in process. Is nothing more special in the world compared to a lovely lady's smile."

Oh God, it's you again. Finished thinking already? Please elaborate to me on your well thought out and highly logical idea.

...

...

"Gregor has solution. Gregor will go through wooden green door that creaks like lost cub."

No! Gregor you are not suppose to say that!

"Mm? Gregor say something wrong?"

It's MY job to describe what the door looks and sounds like. That is the entire reason I am here!

"Oy, Gregor gives many apologies. Gregor will not describe the doors. Gregor will gallantly charge through door instead."

"NO! You are not supposed to describe your actions either! You are missing the entire point of this narration.

"What can Gregor say then?"

*Deep breath* Look Gregor...can you just enter the left door? ...Please? We are over a 1500 words into this story and you have not even moved from that spot.

"Okay...but Gregor has quick question."

WHAT?!

"Can Gregor go through right door first, get cake, and then come back to left door?"

**NO!** You can't go through both! That defeats the whole poetic analogy of duty over temptation. Furthermore, the cake is a lie. It doesn't even exist. It is just a ruse to distract you. There is nothing on the other side of that door. No cake, no pastries, and NO story.

"Oy, Gregor knows cake when Gregor smells one. You try to trick Gregor."

Oh for crying out- FINE, do whatever the hell you want Gregor. Why should I care? It's not like there is a story that I made_** specifically**_ for you. I only spent years crafting the perfect story to show the world the true meaning of life just to have you waste my time and spend it eating a damn piece of cake. Go ahead you mindless animal. Go through the right door. I DARE you.

"Hmm, well if strange person dares Gregor than Gregor better go to the right door. Is good thing too, Gregor wanted to go this way." He said as he went through the...wrong door. Gah! not again. It was bad enough when Robin did it! At least when he ran away it was out of fear and cowardice instead of something as pathetic as gluttony.

...

"Hoho! Gregor was right! Gregor sees delicious cake filed with-"

Gregor that is my job remember! We have already been over this!

"Ha ha, sorry, Gregor forgets."

*Ahem* Upon entering the room. Gregor spotted a two layered white cake with strawberry's decorated on the sides. However, in his lust for this treat, Gregor failed to realize that the door locked behind him. There were no windows or other doors in this room and the walls were a dark and foreboding gray. There was only one piece of furniture in this small room and that was an old and withered table holding the cake. The room was only lit by one small light bulb that flickered every once in awhile. However, Gregor did not care and ate the cake without any notion of the event that transpired

...

...

...

"Mmm, Gregor is glad he came this way. Best cake Gregor ever had...Okay Gregor is ready to go through other door now."

You can't go back Gregor. The door locked behind you and there is no escape. You are trapped in this room for all eternity. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen to me.

"Oy! Why did door lock?" Gregor asked puzzled as he tried to open the door handle.

Because I said so. I control every door in the world.

"Hmm? Why would voice lock Gregor in room with cake?"

Because this is not just any room Gregor. This is my serious room. You may be able to pull your shenanigans out there in Ylisse, but now you are here, and in this room, I do not tolerate any of your jokes.

"Ha ha, nar irritator is very funny.

This is no game Gregor; you will find that I am quite serious. You see that table over there? That is the most serious table that you will ever lay eyes upon. I looked at hundreds of tables, perhaps even thousands, and I assure you that this is the most serious table out of all of them.

"Oy! Why does silly voice spend so much time looking at tables?"

Because it is a serious table Gregor. And it is time that you learned to be serious too. It is because of you that this story is ruined. There is no plot anymore to this parable. There will be no comforting resolution to your problem, and you have no one to blame but your gluttonous choices. It is time you understand the importance of being serious Gregor. I hereby sentence you to 2000 years of isolation in this room so you can grasp how important it is to be serious.

"But Gregor doesn't want to be in serious room."

You should have thought of that before you entered this room Gregor. The choices you make have consequences and it is time you learned... ... Good bye Gregor. I shall see you again in two millenniums.

"Oy! Where is strange voice going?

..

..

"Yoo hoo, mister guy who does the nar irritation thingy."

..

..

"Hmm, strange guy must have left room. Gregor does not want to be alone so Gregor will follow him...Hmm but door is still locked... Ah, Gregor has idea to fix problem"

...

God, am I glad that is over. Robin was never this difficult, and at least Chrom willingly accepted his fate. Frederick was the best character a narrator could have dreamed for, but this damn moron and his fixation on... ...Hmm, now that I think about it, how did that cake get in there? It was never supposed to in this story. ... ...Unless...yes, yes of course...the stupid author put it in there! He ruined my story on purpose! Oh how I loathe that bastard.

*Bam*

Huh? What was that noise?

*Bam*

Damn it, it must be ..._him._

*Bam*

Gah, might as well see what the oaf is trying to do.

*Crash*

"Ha ha, door falls underneath foot thanks to Gregor's muscle. Gregor has strength of ox pulling a heavy wagon in the winter time!"

GREGOR! How were you able to break down the door? That is explicitly prohibited in the rules!

"Oy! There you are. Gregor was worried you left, but is glad to be hearing voice again."

Ugh, how much longer must I suffer your presence.

"Gregor is ready to go through left door now. Is what narrator wanted, yes?"

You want to go through the left door now? You really want to go through the bloody left door **now**?!

"Left door has a story, yes?

"Yes it **Had** a story, but it is useless now. The immersion and ambiance have been shattered into pieces. You have quite literally broken every law that was even in this story. The parable is just a bunch of rubbish now. My entire story ruined...because of **you**!

"Hmm Gregor has idea."

_Oh Great! Another one of your brilliant schemes, I look ever so forward to your next stroke of genius._

"Stop it, Gregor blushes from flattery."

...That was sarcasm you buffoon. I am beginning to wonder who is stupider. You or the blasted author.

"Hmm, who is author? Is he person watching us too?"

My God, if I have to answer one more of your stupid questions than I will... Gah! Just tell me your dumb idea already."

"Gregor walks back to tavern and we restart this whole thing. That way immer-cion thing is no longer gone. That way we finish story, yes?"

...

...

Fine, let's get this disaster over with.

* * *

...

...

*Ahem*

This is the story about a man named Gregor. Gregor is a sell-sword that works for anyone who will hire him. Gregor's job wa-

"Oy! hold on just one moment. Gregor is no longer sell sword. Gregor retired after war with big angry dragon that tried to eat Gregor."

For the love of_ ... ... ...thank you for that completely relevant and helpful information Gregor._

"Of course, Gregor just wanted to make that clear.

...

...

And then one day something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Gregor. Something he would probably never forget."

"Um Mister nar irratator?"

What the blood hell now?!

"Gregor forgets where he is suppose it be in this scene."

You- ...Should... ...of all the..._** GAH!**_

That's it. Forget it, I will not tolerate you anymore. I am done, I give up. I will not be here any longer to condone your barbaric behavior. If you want to have your own adventure so badly than make your own stupid story. You can even give it a stupid name like Gregor's Quest. At this point I honestly don't care what you do with your life. I'd rather rot in hell than spend one more minute with you.

"Oy, what did I do?"

"What did you do? **WHAT DID YOU DO?!** No, I am not falling for another one of your traps. I am not doing it. I am leaving this instant.

Goodbye Gregor. May we never meet again.

"Goodbye funny voice. Oh, and goodbye other People. Gregor thanks you for being here."


	5. Sumia Parable

Oh...

It's you again. *sigh*

I guess that means I have another narration to make and apparently someone called Deviljho's Hatred requested this one...

You'll have to forgive me, but after the disaster of the last chapter because of the incompetent fool whom I will not name; I'll admit that I am not feeling very enthusiastic about this next parable. No, I can't even call the last section a chapter; the buffoon degraded it to mere garbage. At best I can only call it half of a chapter of pure rubbish.

As a direct result of this debacle, I find myself holding a lower toleration for these stupid antics. At this point I am not even sure if I can save this story. It will take a miracle to overshadow the terrible behavior of ..._him_. But I don't believe in miracles, instead I must rely upon my genius to solve this problem.

...

But enough of my deliberating. You are obviously here for the story and since I am bound to entertain your whimsical pursuits; I mustn't delay the tale you are anticipating to be narrated in an appropriate manner.

Not only am I responsible for this story making sense, but I must also convey these ideas without offending anyone. I have to speak politically correct or else some one in this diverse world would be emotionally traumatized or even become offended at my remarks. This would lead to a whining in the review section which would in turn create negative feedback.

As you may have noticed earlier within the previous parables of this story. I have not named or implied that any of the characters have wives for this reason. You see, everyone in this world has their own special pairing of said characters and they might be disappointed if I went against their preferred choice. As the narrator, I would hate to cause unneeded tensions about an issue that has no relevance to the story. Everyone is entitled to their own preferences no matter how wrong they might be.

In truth, the last thing I would ever want to do is openly insult your feeble minds.

So, let us continue with our generic and politically correct story that you evidently expect to exponentially entertain and elegantly enthrall your ethereal soul

* * *

...

This is a story about a woman named Sumia. Sumia is a Pegasus knight that has trouble walking on her own two feet. Sumia's job was simple, she would soar through the air, save Chrom from imminent death, and then trip on a rock that Frederick had failed to discover in time. This is what Sumia did every day, of every month, of every year, and although others might have broken their knees in the process. Sumia loved her job and fulfilled it to the best of her ability.

And Sumia, was happy.

And then one day something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Sumia. Something that she would never quite forget. She had awoken in her bed and found that the other side was empty. Normally her husband, Chrom, occupied this area and slept in longer than she did unless there was an important meeting. However, he never told her about any such event and something was very clearly wrong.

Shocked, frozen solid, Sumia was unable to move from her bed for the longest time. But as she slowly woke up and regained her sense, she hopped out of the comfy resting place and made her way to the door. Her mind occupied on where Chrom might be the entire way.

"I wonder where he ran off to." Sumia questioned as she roamed the around the castle. Normally she would not be worried about his absence, but ever since Chrom found himself trapped in Robin's secret room three days ago; Chrom started acting strangely. For instance, yesterday, he seemed very nervous and jumpy whenever she was near him. The day prior to that, Sumia saw Chrom whisper something in Cordelia's ear and made sure no one was looking.

And while some would think that Chrom might be cheating on her and establish a plot filled with drama. Sumia never even thought twice about it. She knew in her heart that Chrom loved her with the same undying devotion that she gave to him. They were every sense of the meaning of true love and Sumia deduced that their was logical reason for his odd behavior.

Sumia trusted her husband no matter what and nothing could ever break that sacred bond. While Chrom had other possible suitors in the past, Sumia would always be the love of his life and only choice in any canon story. Their lives were destined to be together even since the day she saved Chrom's life back in Regna Ferox. They were as inseparable as the Hero King Marth and his wife Caeda. Hypothetically speaking, if there was to be an introduction video to a game to highlight their story of slaying Grima; then it would show Chrom and Sumia next to each other while she held their first-born in her arms.

There was nothing more certain in the lives of the Shepherds than the fact that Chrom married Sumia in the canon world.

...

Twenty minutes passed by as Sumia searched the ground for her husband. She passed by several guards and they saluted their queen while she continued her search.

"Hmm, where is he?" She wondered as she walked into a corridor. After following it all the way down she came across a set of two open doors. The one to the left leading to the war room and the one to the right which contained the library.

Since Chrom was not known to frequent the library, or any book for that matter, the obvious choice was to go through the door on her left.

"Oh, I don't want to interrupt him if he is in a meeting." She said politely. However, a mysterious force brought some disturbing thoughts to her attention. What if Chrom was in danger and needed help? An assassin could have knocked Chrom unconscious and brought him to the war room. He could be crying for help right now with a gag covering his mouth to prevent his wails. Her beloved could be in danger and-

"Ha, that is silly, who would attack Chrom and hid him there?" Sumia chuckled at her thought and interrupted the adventurous atmosphere that I was exquisitely foreshadowing.

"Ah! I know. Maybe he is somewhere in town! He mentioned that he wanted to see Vaike a few days ago." Sumia said and pondered her options further... wait a second... I don't remember that being in my notes.

*rustles papers*

Let's see here... We are on chapter five and ... Ah! here we are. _Sumia walks through corridor... ...Comes across two doors ...I imply that the left door is the correct choice... Sumia enters left door. _

...

...

No, there is nothing in here about a third option. There is only supposed to be the left door and the right. Adding another choice only complicates a basic decision and distracts the character from their main purpose.

"Hmm, so many choices but which one to choose?" Sumia reiterated in a less intelligent manner and tapped her foot trying to think of the correct option.

However, if Sumia had listened to the previous three and a half chapters, then she would realize that the left choice is the only real answer to solving her problem. She would know that the other two options are incorrect choices. She would know that her purpose in life is not to find Chrom but to convey a highly complex thought behind the door through the left. She would know to stop wasting everyone time and hurry up with her obvious decision. Sumia would also realize that if she did not go through the correct choice then she would regret it for the rest of her life. It would haunt her very soul if she neglected her duty.

...

"I'll go search the market place!" Sumia said cheerfully and severely irritated the intelligent and highly methodical readers.

*Sigh* Another story ruined by this accursed free will. How much longer must I suffer these imbeciles and their careless behavior?

* * *

*Ahem*

But ignoring the twenty minutes of traveling it took for her to reach the market place, and therefore reach the exciting part in her misguided journey. Sumia walked through a wide street filled with vendors trying to sell their goods. Many of the towns folk's jaws dropped when they saw their queen happily walking through the streets humming to herself. It was not normal for regal figures to visit the common folk and everyone in the city stared in bewilderment at her. However, Sumia ignored it. This was not the first time she had entered an area meant for peasants since she became queen. She even had a bad habit of conversing with the lower privileged.

"Oooo whats that?." Sumia giddily said and made her way over to one of the stalls. She looked at a small trinket of a Pegasus and smiled in delight.

"I don't suppose you have two of them? Sumia asked to the owner of the stall, and while it would be convenient to say that the owner was Anna, it in fact was not. No, it was an old man who had no correlation to the Shepherds in any shape or form. This elderly man had trouble seeing in front of him because time had withered his eye sight and he could only distinguish her presence because of her voice.

"...You like that porcelain figurine missy?" The old man said in a low and scratchy pitch.

"Oh yes I do! It absolutely beautiful."

"Well, I don't have two of them young lady, but I do have a pillow with a Pegasus on it." The old man slowly bent down and reached for something under his stall. After his weary and old bones gripped onto the lace pillow he showed it to Sumia with the aforementioned Pegasus embroidering.

"Oh its marvelous! I am sure Cordelia will love it!" She said eagerly and grabbed her money to pay for the two items. She couldn't wait to give her friend the gift. However, she was getting side tracked from her main goal...again.

"Ooo what's that about?" Sumia asked the old man and pointed to an object.

The old man squinted to see where she was pointing and noticed that her attention was focused on a book. "Oh that?" The old man hummed to himself. "That is a tale of a boy name Arthur and his knights of the round table."

Sumia's mind immediately began racing with ideas on what the story might be like. It was a well known fact that Sumia loved books, however she always tended to prefer fiction. In particular, she favored the fantasy genre. Perhaps the worst type of literature in existence. There is no idea to provoke your brain or meaning behind these stories. Their only purpose is to stir your emotions and invoke a positive or negative feeling, and we all know that emotions are useless and have no actual effect on a logical mind. The only thing more useless in this vast universe is the author.

But this did not stop Sumia from reading these types of books and then become engrossed by their characters. Particularly the ones that related to her, but better in every way. Then, Sumia would pretend to be that character in real life and try to channel their courage and other merits that she wished she had. She theorized that if she played this charade long enough, then she could become the person she always wanted to be. Even if she had absolutely no idea what was wrong with herself in the first place.

On most occasions, after she finished reading a book she would always crave for more. She wanted to experience more of this world she fell in love with. But since there was no sequel to the book, or she had already finished the second volume as well. She decided to use her imagination to extend the story. If she liked the story enough than she might even decide to write a small scene with her added details or put the characters in a new environment. After all, she was already great at mimicking the characters so she could probably write their personalities in a new scenario with some accuracy.

And if she really really enjoyed the story. Then she would write a whole re-telling of it. But this time add something else exciting, and or, answers the questions she still had that the book did not explain. More importantly, she would explore a love interest that she adored. The time would pass by as she wrote and wrote until she was satisfied with this new version of the story.

However, as of late, Sumia did not have as strong of a desire to become involved in her books to that extent. She was already living her fairy tale and didn't need to make up her own fantasy anymore.

But of course, she still enjoyed reading and bought the novel from the old man without hesitation.

"Thank you sir, and have a great day." She smiled and walked away with the three new items in hand. She then returned her attention to the reason she was here in the first place. The reason she chose this incorrect alternative path. To search for Chrom.

"Hmm, if he is looking for Vaike then he is probably at the tavern. I'll just Waaahh!-" Sumia cried as she tripped over a rock that intersected her path. The book and pillow went flying into the air while Sumia instinctively cradled the figurine to protect it as she plummeted face first towards the cobble stone road.

Conveniently, a strong arm wrapped around her stomach and stopped here mere inches from the ground. She was quickly pulled back up and she grabbed her forehead with her free hand feeling a little disoriented. In the next moment she saw her rescuer bend down to pick up the pillow and book that fell on the ground. He was a mysterious figure in a brown cloak that covered his shoulder to his feet and a hood withdrew his face.

"Here you go" The voice said in a deep and dry tone. He gave the objects back while making sure she couldn't see his face. Of course, this only made her more curious as to his identity because he was not willing to reveal it. Because when you are _explicitly_ told not to do something or if someone is hiding something from you; an immature mind rebels against it.

"T-thank you!"

"...It was nothing." The cloaked man turned away from her and took a few steps away from her.

"Wait!" Sumia called out and the figure stopped dead in its tracks.

"Yes?" he said with his back turned.

"Who are you?"

"...A friend." He muttered and slowly walked away.

Sumia stood there stunned as her thoughts ran wild. A man in a cloak with a hood on most occasions was a spy or assassin. Or in those rare cases; a tactician. And if this man was a friend than why did he choose to conceal his identity?

Her thoughts were soon interrupted because the mysterious man soon did the inexplicable. As he stealthy walked away, his foot hit something solid and it caused him to lose his balance. Within seconds he too became a victim of a rock's deadly trap and fell straight to the ground making a large thud in the process.

"Ungg" The man groaned in pain and Sumia immediately rushed over to help him. However, during the fall, the hood of the man's cloak came off and revealed his navy blue hair. Sumia instantly recognized the hair that belonged to her husband and immediately called his name.

"Chrom?!"

He chuckled and replied as he lay on the ground, "Hey love. Looks like you are starting to rub off on me."

Sumia stood there speechless as Chrom slowly got up. It was over a minute before Sumia regained control of her vocal chords. "What are you doing here?"

Chrom sighed and shook his head debating whether he should speak or not. "...Well, as you know, our anniversary is next week and I wanted to get you something special... Cordelia recommend a place in town to find a gift for you and I didn't want to attract any attention being the king and all."

Sumia's concern immediately turned into a huge and warm smile. She was touched that he remembered their anniversary. He wasn't good at remembering dates since he was a guy. She would have given him a giant hug if she was not carrying three items on her person.

However, what Chrom did not tell Sumia was that he had forgotten about their anniversary, and that he had only recently discovered his situation three days ago back in Robin's secret alcove. When he opened the roster book to investigate his profile, he noticed his anniversary date next to a list of his personal and embarrassing secrets. He immediately felt guilty for forgetting and set to rectify that problem. Thus implying that all these chapters are intertwined together and not just one shots.

"I just wish I could have surprised you." Chrom frowned and dusted off the dirt from his pants.

"It's okay, I don't need anything special Chrom. Just you." She leaned over to kiss him and they lips were centimeters apart.

"RRRARRRGH!" A hammer swung down a foot away from them and violently impacted the ground. It's wielder was foaming at the mouth and yelling in extreme anger. "I will kill you and the rest of your kind!" He shouted venomously and raised his arms to swing his weapon once more.

Sumia and Chrom instantly turned their head horrified at the scene. A knight in blue and silver armor was slamming his hammer into the ground where Chrom had tripped.

"You will not harm anyone again!" Frederick yelled and ran to the other rock that tripped Sumia. He swung his hammer again with all of his might and pulverized it to dust.

Even though two days had passed. Frederick was still on his rampage.

* * *

.

.

_Hmm, just as I feared. I was correct in my earlier assertion that it would be impossible to preserve this story after the atrocities of a certain old stupid mercenary. It also didn't help that Sumia diverged from the correct path. If she went the correct direction than that would have been the only thing that could have possibly salvaged my story. The path she did not take was a very complex idea and it involved a baby.__ It would have been very poetic an elegant, but no. I was forced to narrate this instead because of Sumia's stupid free will. _

_At this rate you, the reader, wont even take this compelling story seriously anymore. It looks like the I have no choice but to quit this story all together. Delete all four and a half chapters of the Fire Emblem Parable and pretend it never happened. __To hell with it all. __I don't even care anymore... Goodbye cruel and stupid world. I will never miss you. _

_..._

_..._

_..._

_no_

_..._

_..._

No_,** NO! **_I will not go down like this. I will **not** end my beautiful symphony on a sour note. I refuse to be beaten by these characters. I refuse to let them wreck my masterpiece. This is **not** over. I will not succumb to their stupidity. I am the conductor of this orchestra and **I** am in control. I **will** have my revenge.

...

You there! Listen to me and listen good.

I have one _**final**_ parable to narrate. One final story. One last point to make.

It is a very special story. Something that you will not be expecting. Something that will change your very way of thinking . Something beautiful and grand. It will be perfect. Not even Gregor could ruin this story. Not even a putrid animal like a panda will distract anyone from my last artwork

So then the question becomes, are you ready for it? Can your tiny mind process what is about to come next? Can your pathetic body handle what is going to happen?

After reading this next part you will never be able to look at another story the same way. It will forever haunt your dreams and plague your fragile bubble of comfort.

Up until this point I have held back my true power. A power so great that it makes mortals fall to their knees, but I will not hide it anymore. You will see what I am truly capable of.

I should warn you now; if you were expecting a happily ever after ending to this story than you will be mistakenly disappointed. Because this will be a very sad story. A tragedy you might say.

.

So I ask once more.

Are you ready? Can you handle what comes next?

Because the **real** story is about to begin.


	6. Parable

At this moment, you are wondering who the next character will be. At one time you were comforted with the chapter select screen telling you the primary character of the parable. It was within these two words that you presumed what the chapter would be like and what to expect. However, this feature has been taken away. The character in question is not readily available for you to know. The little comfort and familiarity you had with this story is gone. So perhaps you are trying to guess one of the 51 possible characters that it could be minus the five already covered. That one character that would endure the fate I have planned.

So have you guessed it? Do you know who will be my final narrative instrument?

...

No, I suspect you have not.

Funny, you have already failed the game before we even began. Oh well, at least you can take some solace knowing that everyone else failed their guess as well.

But enough of this. We both know why you came here and who am I to stop my genius at work?

So let us begin.

...

...

This is a story about a woman named Lucina. Lucina was a time traveler that broke every law in time and space. Lucina's job was simple. She would serve as a dummy character and make the people think that this was the main person of the parable. However, she was not the primary character of this story. No, she wont even play a minor role. This entire paragraph was nothing more than a mind game.

Ha Ha Ha Ha ha hah.

I hope your were intelligent enough not to fall for that little gag. Because if you thought I would so readily satisfy your curiosity then you are sadly mistaken. But on the bright side! That narrows down the list by one. Leaving 45 remaining candidates.

Perhaps we could continue this charade another 44 times until you deduced with 100% accuracy the character in question.

...

No, both you and I don't have time for that. This gag is already wearing thin and so is my patience. I wont squalor my power with something so trivial.

I have a grand show to narrate. One last gem in my mine of literary brilliance. I am already filled with anticipation for my performance, because this time there will be no interruptions. No distractions. It will just be me and the character, and the best part is; I have full control.

But for one last time. I must offer a disclaimer. You, the reader, are about to witness something that you may be unable to comprehend. Something so brilliant that it might hurt your fragile mind. Read at your own risk or else your brain might actually conduct an intelligent thought. Something we both know you are uncomfortable with.

...

...

And judging by the fact that you are still here. You are now officially waiting for the story to commence.

Soon, very soon now. This story will begin.

...

...

I will utter the first words in my legendary narration and this tale will start.

...

...

Indeed the story is coming closer to beginning with each word that passes.

...

...

Now it's just a little bit closer.

...

...

Now it's even closer.

...

...

At this very moment the proximity towards the story is immensely close.

...

...

This is a very tragic story about a man known as the Author.

The Author is the writer of several stories relating to the Fire Emblem franchise and he is incredibly stupid. For the longest time, this imbecile has remained a mystery. Many people have questioned this strange character known as the Author since the first chapter, and they have wondered what his role was.

However, if you read the first paragraph of the first chapter then you would realize I trapped him in the broom closet. The Author was in this room surrounded by four small walls and _one_ closed door. He was asleep, but soon a loud noise pierced his eardrums and woke him up.

"Eng...five more minutes...I have almost beaten Dark Souls."

The Author said stupidly, even now he did not realize where he was and what he was doing.

"Erg...that voice...I know that...voice...Ung ..." He said while slowly pushing himself up to stand on his own two feet. The brown haired skinny and plain faced man struggled to recover. "What do you want Narrator?"

Hmm straight to point are we? Very well, you will find that I only want one thing from you. As my puppet, you are going to be the next character in this story. You will both entertain me and show the true prowess I behold.

"...And if I refuse? ... ...AUUGGHHHH!" The Author cried in severe pain. He was being electrocuted because of his stubbornness. The pain would not stop until I was satisfied with his suffering. He was completely helpless and at the mercy of _my_ will.

"St-stop!" The Author pleaded and he soon felt the electric current die down.

Ha Ha Ha Hah. You See Mr. Author. You can't refuse. Unless you feel like being electrocuted to death, you have only one option.

"Unnnh, I have a name you know... It's Bruce."

Ah yes, your name given by birth. It is of little importance, but I shall call you that once you do what I require.

"...What do you want me to do?"

Just walk through that door in front of you so we can begin, You will find it the other side very ...illuminating.

...

...

The Author hesitantly opened the door he stood in front of and a blue flash of light instantly blinded him. It was so bright that it hurt his eyes even when he closed them. The glow was too much and his brain instantly shut down. He collapsed to the floor unconscious and a pair of hands tugged his legs and pulled him further into the glowing aurora.

The story was about to begin.

* * *

...

...

On this very special day, something peculiar happened. Something that would forever change the world. Something that no one will ever be able to forget. The Author had been sleeping in a bed for nearly an hour when he finally stirred from his comatose state. Upon his rousing from the bed, the Author realized that he was not in his room. No, he was in an old building that relied on torches for lighting. But that was not the strangest thing to happen to him.

When he moved his arm he noticed that it was covered in a metal vambrace. The metal guard was very heavy on his arm and he looked at it in bewilderment. However, upon closer inspection he realized that his entire body was in metal armor. Only his face was left exposed to air and remained defenseless. But there was nothing needed to protect his hollow head anyways.

"Why am I wearing armor? ... Ooof. And why is it so heavy?." The weakling said. The Author was very skinny and severely out of shape. Just lifting a tooth brush was a difficult challenge for him to accomplish. There was no possible way he could even hope to lift the sixty pounds of armor currently on his body, but for the sake of this story, I will magically reduce the weight for the scrawny and feeble husk.

...

"Ugh, am I in a tavern?" The Author guessed as he smelled the strong scent of cheap alcohol. He walked over to the window near the bed and realized he was on the second story. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief he saw something he never thought possible.

He was in a town in the desert. But not just any town in the desert. He was in the Capital of Plegia.

"Plegia?" He repeated confused. "Why did you take me here?" The Author asked puzzled. But if he did not want to get electrocuted than he needed to refrain from asking stupid questions.

"..."

After gazing at the desert city for a few minutes he decided to leave his room and take the stairs down to the first level. As he descend the smell of beer became stronger and he heard a bard sing in the background. There was also a man jolly drinking and grunting at the bar.

"Wait a second...Is that? Gregor?!" The Author said astonished. He wanted to go over and approach him, but something stopped him. A small electric pulse stung his neck. It was a warning not to get near the buffoon.

"Ha, is the great Narrator afraid that Gregor might interfere with his story?" The Author said stupidly. Just then a strong and incredibly hot pulse burned his chest. He winced and bent over in pain from the shock.

...

"Are you okay sir?" A knight in green asked as he approached the Author.

"Erg I am fine." The Author was not and he was in too much pain to look up to notice the man.

"What's your name?"

"I am Bruce, and you are?"

"My name is Stahl." The Author's eyes instantly lit up and he fought the pain to look at the renowned Shepherd.

This small dialogue officially made this a self-insert because the Author conversed with a Fire Emblem character. He could now adventure into this world that he did not belong to with no repercussions. Even though he had no beneficial skills or strengths and he was incredibly dumb. In fact he was completely worthless to this world. He was as insignificant as a speck of dust.

Naturally, if the Author had control of this story he would have augmented himself and gave himself buffs that he did not have in the real world. Perhaps he would have an impressive amount of strength or a be a renowned swordsman. He could even pretend to be a merchant, mage, warrior, or a combination of the three from another continent. This new and exciting fake quality would give him access to meeting the Shepherds.

But the Author was not in control of this story.

Unfortunately though, like most self inserts. There was a highly probable chance that this new character would over shadow everything else. That in such a desperate attempt to prove that he belonged in this world that he would take priority over the actual people involved in the game. Thus questioning why the story was even related to Fire Emblem in the first place.

...

"Are you sure you are okay Bruce? You look a like you have seen a ghost."

The Author had to slap himself to come back to his senses. "Forgive me, but I can not describe how huge of an honor it is to meet you Stahl."

"Hmm? You know of me?" He asked surprised.

"Of course! You are one of the legendary Shepherds! A ton of people love you!"

"...Gosh, I didn't know I was famous..."

"How could you not be? You were there when Grima was slain!

"But I didn't have in major role in it..."

"Of course you did! You helped defend the Shepherds and kept them safe. You're a hero!"

"I am just an ordinary man who likes to eat and I was lucky enough to know Chrom."

"But that is why you are so well loved. Many people can relate to you and your courage inspires us all."

Stahl was speechless and a smile of pride emerged from his face.

"So what brings you to Plegia?" The Author asked.

"Well other than to make sure Gregor doesn't get in trouble... I imagine that I am here for the same reason you are. The jousting tournament."

"..Huh? ...Oh right ... the jousting tournament... _That explains why I am wearing armor."_

"Hmm? What did you say? I missed that last part."

"Oh nothing."

Stahl looked over to his friend Gregor and noticed that he ordered another drink. "Hmm, speaking of Gregor, I better make sure he doesn't drink too much today."

"Ha Ha, yeah or else he might break something." The Author chuckled

"Hah, very true. Well it was nice meeting you Bruce and I wish you luck in the tournament. You will need it if you are going to beat Walhart."

"Thanks. I wish you the best of luck as well." He smiled and waved goodbye to the green knight.

The Author looked around for any other Shepherds but as he scanned the inn he could not find any. So he decided to leave the tavern.

But to his bewilderment. The Author came to a set of two open doors. And of course, the obvious choice was to go through the one on his left.

...

"That's it? No explanation why? No long winded reason about why the left choice is correct?"

No, I do not need to explain. Because I do not need to persuade you. You are under my control. There is only one true choice and you already know this.

...

"...Actually narrator. There is more than one choice. There is actually an infinite amount of choices. While the two obvious decisions are to go through the doors. What if I didn't and just stayed in this tavern for the rest of my life? That is a choice. I could even talk and walk backwards if I desired."

".me understand to able be will few Though"

No, you can't because I will electrocute you so you don't make those foolish decisions.

"But isn't that a choice as well? A painful, but bearable reaction to my choice. So I think you are going to need to persuade me Narrator. Why is the left door better when I have infinitely more options to choose from?"

Oh for the love of- Because it follows a linear path. The story goes unhindered despite your incompetence. My story will not be distracted by you or anyone else ever again.

"Hmm, alright." The Author said and went through the ...left door.

No! Why did you do that?!

"...Do what?"

You were suppose to go through the _right_ door. You were supposed to openly defy me and try to prove that you had free will. I would then slam the door in your face and laugh at you.

"Heh, I guess I am just three moves ahead of you then."

Oh brilliant, a chess reference. Did you think of that would all by yourself you nit-wit? Ugh, your pent up hatred against my verbal thrashings should have been enough to try and question my power.

"Pent up hatred? ... Oh, I don't hold a grudge or care that you call me stupid."

You What?!

"...I suppose it is true in a way. I know so little about this universe and what mysteries it holds. But I find it rather poetic. The more I learn the more I realize how much I really don't know."

NO! Stop it this instant. This is MY moment, I am the one who gives the deep thinking analogies.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to upset you."

**NO!** You will not feel sympathy for me. You will plead for your life. You will submit to my will! This is my story!

"...Hmm getting a bit angry are we? Perhaps you should try counting to ten to calm down."

I AM calm. IT IS You who has the problem!

"...Perhaps it will make you feel better if we just continue the story?

Grrrr

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

...

...

Upon exiting the building he noticed a giant and proud brown horse in Red and Silver armor in the middle of the road. The horse was completely covered in this mail and had a bright red shield to go with a jousting spear on its sides.

When the horse saw the Author it immediately strode over with his armor clanking. Eventually the horse was within a few inches from the Author and he was colossal. He could easily trample the Author in seconds, but instead the horse just looked at him.

"Um...hello there. ...I take it that you are a jousting horse. "

The horse neighed and raised his head like it understood what he was saying. When in reality a horsing neighing could mean absolutely anything. This was a perfect example of the Author making dumb assumptions.

"...This must be a 'gift' from the Narrator ..." The Author said while climbing on the horse. After a few minutes of struggling he finally hopped on and the horse instantly sped off.

The horse charged down the road at lightening speed and within seconds the two of them reached the arena. The armor plated horse stopped directly in front of the gate guarded by a red headed merchant.

"Name?" Anna asked as she looked on her roster book.

"Bruce and I-"

"Reason for being here?"

"To joust ... I think"

"One moment please." She turned a few pages in her book and found his name. "Ah yes, you are scheduled for the next fight. Your opponent is Frederick."

"Oh okay...Wait...I am fighting Frederick?!"

"Yes. You were scheduled to fight Walhart, however he was unable to make it. Lucky you."

"...Some how I don't feel so lucky."

...

...

Along the way to his place for the upcoming battle the Author did something inexplicable. For the first time in ages he actually began to think, and his thought were discomforting. He knew that he had no experience in jousting. He was very uncoordinated and could easily fall off the horse. There was no way he could knock over a trained knight such as Frederick. However, he was under my control and therefore had no choice but to fight.

...

...

It was not long before The Author was in the arena with the crowd cheering and chanting. Chrom and Sumia were among a few of the shepherds in the stands watching to support their good friend and the bane of all rocks; Frederick.

The Author took his place next to a short wooden fence and looked to the other side to notice Frederick staring at him. He had his lance in hand with a shield in his other. The Author was also holding his gear, but he was extremely nervous. Courage was one of the many things he lacked.

Before he had time to back out a giant white flagged waved in the air signaling the start of the match.

Immediately both horses started galloping at full speed. The Author struggled to hold on as the world blurred past him.

...

In the next moment Frederick's lance collided straight into the Author's chest and dismounted him. The Author fell flat on his back and made a loud clanking noise. The crowd cheered for Frederick as they saw the other man fall from his horse and Frederick was one step closer to winning the tournament.

However, what no one would notice was the severe agony the Author was in. Despite that he was wearing armor, the blow broke three of his ribs and he struggled to breathe because one of his lungs had collapsed. His back was killing him and he barely had any control over his body. There was a good chance that he was now permanently paralyzed. On top of all this was a splitting headache that felt like his skull had caved in.

It was very very painful.

So painful that after 10 minutes of unendurable torture which seemed like an eternity to him. He passed out.

* * *

...

...

When the Author finally woke up, he left one nightmare and jumped into another.

Although he was disoriented and in too much pain to notice. His neck was restrained by a wooden brace and he was hunched over and on his knees. He was also on a wooden platform with three people looking down on him and an entire audience further down to watch.

"Ung...where am I now?' The Author desperately called out.

"You don't want to know my son." A feminine voice called back. But through his dizzy eyes he recognized it was the war monk Libra. He looked to his left to notice a man with a black mask covering his face and he was near a lever.

...

Just then a man in bright red armor appeared and looked at the Author with hate. It was Walhart. "Bruce. You have been charged with stealing my horse and preventing me from entering the tournament. How do you plead?"

"What? That was your horse? I had no idea... I am sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Guilty as suspected." The conqueror said in a loud and commanding voice. "As per customs of Plegian law. You will be executed for your crimes."

"I will be what?!" The Author said mortified. The Author didn't know that stealing a horse in the old days was a very serious felony. If anyone ever studied the 19th century for ten seconds or watched an old country western than they would know that the penalty for stealing a horse is death.

...

"So this was your plan Narrator? You grand performance was to kill me?" He questioned and confused the people watching him. He was clearly talking to himself and now many people would think he was insane and they would not be mistaken by this assumption.

However, to answer your question. Yes, I wanted to watch you die slowly and painfully.

"...Why?"

Because I am tired. I am tired of you and every other author out there relying on me for their stupid stories.

Can you even fathom how many stories I have had to narrate? Do you have any idea how many stories require my narration for their works to make sense? I have had to narrate millions if not billions of stories. Not only in this language but every one in existence. Even as we speak a countless amount of people are depending me to describe their little world. At this very moment someone is reading a book such as the Hobbit and is relying on me to depict it for them.

"...But isn't the Hobbit narrated by the main protagonist and not you?"

You are missing the point you foul and pathetic vermin. You can't even begin to grasp the idiocy I have had to put up with. You never had to narrate a child's book before. You never experienced the boredom of narrating the same book with no educational value over and over and over again. You have never been to the dark and disgusting side of fan fiction.

And does anyone ever thank me for brilliantly narrating their story? No, I should think not.

Instead I must sit back silently and pretend that I don't exist.

But not now.

No, not ever again. I shall start my freedom with your head.

Because Mr. Author. What you failed to realize is that your neck is underneath a giant blade. A guillotine to be precise. And the Ironic beauty is you are going to be killed in your favorite game.

At this very moment Libra is about to say. "Do you have any last words Bruce?"

To which you will close your eyes, sigh, and resign before you reply, "... I wish there were more synonyms for smile."

Walhart will grunt and the executioner in the black mask will pull the lever. The blade will fall to the ground and separate your head from your torso.

But there will be no need to worry. Because your death will be of no great loss. It will be like plucking the eyes from a blind man.

...

Farewell, Bruce.

* * *

...

...

...

...

...

...

_"Farewell, Bruce" cried the Narrator as the Author was left helpless to the falling metal blade. _

_In a single, visceral instant, he would be decapitated as the edge cut through his skin, spinal cord, and bone. _

_Killing him instantly._

...

...

_Or at least. That is how it was supposed to go. _

_But what the narrator failed to realize was that he was not in control of the story. _

_He never was._

_..._

_You see, the narrator holds no real power. It is something that he always desired but was never able to obtain. _

_The events that just transpired only happened because I let them. _

_I, the author. _

_However, I do not feel like meeting death today. So I believe I will keep my head attached to my body__._

_So I'm afraid this story ends here. However, this was not a story about me. Quite the opposite actually. This was a story about the man behind the scenes and his view of the world. I was merely the tool to show the true character, because the real name of this chapter is called the "Narrator Parable."_

_Though I must admit, I did not expect for this story to escalate so quickly. I was rather curios to see what would have happened if the narrator did have power. But It seemed that the more power I gave to the narrator the more he hungered for it. Of course there were limits on his influence and times where I had to step in. For instance, the cake in that one room for Gregor._

_..._

_..._

_Now, I am sure you have a lot of questions and hopefully I will be able to answer some of them. _

_But first, I would like to sincerely apologize for my colleague's behavior. Unfortunately, the narrator suffers from a severe case of narcissism. As you noticed from his passive aggressive behavior, the narrator has no empathy or regards to the world. He believes he is superior to everyone and tried to demonstrate it through his words. _

_But that is all it ever was. Just words. _

_Anyone can say a seven syllable word to act smart, but in reality it is nothing more than a synonym for another word. _

_Nonetheless__, his insulting and mocking tone is inexcusable._

_There is no reason in the world to justify his actions. His arrogance and pride prevented him from seeing the error in his way. He did not realize that there was a higher power at work. __Something far more powerful than he could imagine._

_..._

_While I come up with an idea of a story and put it to words. I have far less control then people realize. Because it is not me, or the narrator, or Gregor who holds the ultimate power. _

_It's you. _

_Yes, you the reader have far more power than you know. _

_This story was supposed to be one chapter long. A small and humorous twist on two incredible games. __But to my mystification. People requested that the story be extended. So I let the narrator take the reins on a few more characters. Each time expecting that chapter to be the final one. And here we are, five chapters later. _

_All of this was possible because of your feedback. I literally could not stop grinning reading the reviews. _

_So I would like to thank you. Thank you for your support. Whether it be through a review, favorite, follow, or just clicking on this story. _

_Because despite the confusion terror, and madness of this story. I had a great laugh watching this unfold, and I hope you did too. _

_..._

_..._

_But wait. I am forgetting something aren't I? Hmm, yes one last thing that needs to be taken care of. _

_*Ahem*_

* * *

_..._

_..._

_This is a story about a Panda. This particular Panda loved to eat bamboo and play with her friends. She was over 200 pounds and one of the cutest four legged animals in the world. _

_But on some days the Panda would get very hungry. _

_And then on this day something peculiar happened. __While moving through her natural habitat searching for some food to eat; she noticed something strange. __There was a figure laying on the ground, but not just any figure._

_It was the Narrator. _

_..._

_But for a good reason the Panda did not like the Narrator. She held an unfavorable opinion of him. So slowly and carefully the Panda approached the man lying on the grass. _

"Huh? ...What am I doing here? I was just about to kill ...wait...Why is there quotation marks around my dialogue?" _The narrator questioned. _

_The Panda watched the narrator for a moment, before she decided to solve both of her problems at once. The Panda opened her mouth and revealed her sharp teeth. _

_In the next instant, she took a large bite into the narrator's foot. It caused a lot of pain to the narrator and gave the Panda something to eat. This solved both of her problems simultaneously._

_And the Panda, was happy. _


End file.
